


Prompts

by jaicubed



Category: Youtubers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 10:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12957576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaicubed/pseuds/jaicubed
Summary: Collection of drabbles from Tumblr prompts- check out my Tumblr and prompt me! Link in my profile.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> 172 zeath, heath surprises Zane with a home cooked meal but Zane has been day dreaming about heath all day and can't wait OR heath surprises Zane and Zane wants to thank him or something like that  
>  
> 
> A/N: this was one of those quote prompts and the quote was like ‘this looks great, but i see something more delicious i want to eat right now’ or something lol– also I am combining this with another prompt from another nonnie. you’ll figure it out lol

When Zane woke up, Heath was standing next to the bed in just his underwear, holding a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of his face. 

“Happy birthday, baby!” Heath chirped. 

Zane blinked, a thousand stimuli assaulting his senses all at once. “Huh?”

Heath rolled his eyes. “Sit up. I made you birthday pancakes!”

Zane stared at Heath for several seconds before his words actually made any sense, and then he finally sat up, leaning back against the headboard and rubbing his eyes.

Before he knew it, Heath was straddling his thighs and grinning from ear to ear. He cut a piece of pancake with the side of a fork and held it up to Zane’s mouth. “Open!”

Zane could follow basic commands at this point, but he was still too sleepy and overwhelmed to speak. He could smell the pancakes and Heath’s body wash and could feel the side of the plate digging into his stomach and Heath’s warm weight rubbing against his dick. 

He opened his mouth and accepted the piece of pancake, and Heath watched him as he chewed and swallowed. Heath fed him a few more bites, and as he started to become fully conscious, the taste of the chocolate melting on his tongue was superseded by the sight of Heath’s full lips smiling at him and his bright eyes earnest with love and affection.

Zane gently tugged the plate and fork out of Heath’s hands and set them on the nightstand.

“Don’t you like them?” Heath asked, his face falling a bit. 

“They’re delicious,” Zane answered. He ran his hands up Heath’s thighs and grabbed his ass, pulling him forward so that he was pressed against Zane’s chest. “But there’s something else I’d rather eat right now.”

“That was lame,” Heath mumbled, but he wrapped his arms around Zane’s neck anyway and placed a kiss on his lips. “Happy birthday.”

Zane hummed in acknowledgement and Heath kissed him again, slowly, enjoying the lingering taste of chocolate on Zane’s tongue.

Zane’s hands slid under his underwear, gripping his ass and digging his nails into the meaty flesh. Heath bit Zane’s lip and teased him with short kisses, enough to get Zane excited but not enough to satisfy. He wanted Zane to get mad, and he felt sort of bad about that, considering it was the guy’s birthday, but an annoyed Zane meant rougher sex, and he was definitely in the mood for that.

Heath kept up the teasing until they were both hard and dripping and Heath’s ass was probably bleeding from Zane’s nails. When Zane finally growled and pushed Heath onto his back, Heath patted himself on the back for a job well done.

“You’re gonna tease me on my birthday, hmm?” Zane got onto his knees and leaned forward until he was hovering over Heath. He put his lips against Heath’s ear. “That’s not very nice.”

Heath smirked at him, and Zane’s finger dipped under the waistband of Heath’s underwear, pulling them down his legs and tossing them to the side.

“In fact…you can go  _fuck_  yourself.” Zane’s eyes flicked meaningfully towards the closet.

Heath licked his lips, unsure. “Oh…I thought-”

“It’s my birthday, and I want you to go fuck yourself.” Zane raised an eyebrow in challenge before leaning back against the headboard again, pulling off his own underwear. He stroked his dick lazily. “I’m waiting.”

Heath swallowed and nodded. He rolled off the bed and walked to the closet, reaching up to a top shelf. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so nervous. 

When he stood at the side of the bed ten seconds later, Zane pressed a bottle of lube into his hands. How the fuck did Heath go from making his boyfriend birthday pancakes to getting ready to fuck himself with an eight-inch dildo while said boyfriend watched?

Heath climbed back on the bed and knelt in front of Zane’s spread legs, his back facing him. He uncapped the lube and poured a generous amount on to his hand.

He felt a little silly, but when he looked back over his shoulder, Zane was already fisting his dick harder, his eyes glued to Heath’s body. 

Emboldened, Heath reached behind swiped a finger over his hole. The lube was still cold and he hissed, but continued to rub back and forth before finally breaching himself with his middle finger.

It didn’t take him too long to adjust, and he added a second, and then a third finger pretty quickly. It wasn’t as good as Zane’s fingers, but it still felt pretty amazing, and he sighed, slowly stretching himself while he pumped in and out.

He knew he was ready when his legs started shaking and stars were bursting behind his eyelids. He found the dildo and lubed it up before placing it beneath him.

It was hard to get good leverage on the soft bed, but Heath had discovered that if he held the fake cock steady with his heels while he knelt, he could ride it comfortably without it moving around too much. 

He sank down on it slowly, and he looked over his shoulder again at Zane. Zane looked like a caged animal, pissed off and ready to strike. Good.

It took longer to adjust to the dildo, but eventually, he could slide up and down it with ease. He couldn’t go very fast, but it filled him up so fucking good.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and his head fell back and his mouth fell open, pleasure and sweat running down his spine. He didn’t know how long he stayed there, his mind cloudy with arousal, kept on the edge. He knew he couldn’t come like this- he couldn’t fuck himself hard enough, couldn’t get a good hand on his dick. 

When it became too much, he whined low in his throat, the sound escaping him against his will. Fortunately, Zane was there to save him.

Before he knew it, he was face down on the mattress and the fake cock had been replaced by Zane’s very real one. 

Zane wasn’t as big as the dildo, but there was nothing like a flesh and blood cock slamming into you. The power behind his thrusts was scary. He gripped Heath’s hips hard and Heath could only hang on to the sheets for dear life as Zane fucked him into oblivion.

He was so close, and Heath was losing his mind. He only had to stroke his dick a few times before he was shooting over the bed, his moan so loud that he was actually kind of embarrassed.

Heath could feel Zane fill him up soon after, his nails digging into Heath’s back as he rode out his orgasm. 

Zane fell back against the headboard, taking Heath with him. It should have been gross, Heath’s back pressed against Zane’s sweaty chest, Zane’s come trickling out of him onto the comforter. But it wasn’t at all.

When they could breathe normally and Heath was half-asleep, he felt Zane shift behind him. Zane put something hard on his thighs, and after a few minutes he opened an eye and looked down.

“Are you actually eating pancakes right now?” Heath asked.

“I worked up an appetite,” Zane answered, and Heath could feel him shrug.

A few seconds later the fork hovered in front of Heath’s face. “Want some?”

“You don’t have to share your birthday pancakes,” Heath said, turning his head and smiling at Zane indulgently. But Zane pressed the fork against Heath’s mouth and Heath opened obediently.

“This is the best birthday ever,” Zane sighed when the pancakes were gone, wrapping his arms around Heath’s stomach and nuzzling into his neck.

“You say that every year,” Heath pointed out.

“Well, they just keep getting better, I guess.” 

Heath closed his eyes. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> 35 zeath because I feel like that is something Zane has said / done
> 
>    
> A/N: 35 was “Are you crying because we ran out of pizza?”

“While you’re up, can you get me another slice, babe?” Zane called out to Heath, not taking his eyes away from the television.

“Are you serious? Zane, you’ve had like, ten slices. The pizza’s gone.” Heath shook his head and opened the refrigerator, grabbing two more bottles of beer. He set them on the counter and turned back to Zane, who was looking down at his plate sadly. “You’re gonna have such bad heartburn tonight. I told you not to do this.”

“There’s really no more left?” Zane asked. He looked at Heath like he’d just found out Santa wasn’t real.

Heath squinted. “Are…are you  _crying_  because we ran out of pizza?”

“No,” Zane pouted, although his eyes definitely looked a little glassy from where Heath was standing.

Heath sighed. “Just wait a little bit. Let your brain catch up with your stomach.”

Ten minutes later, Zane was on the toilet, groaning. “I’m gonna die.”

“No,  _I’m_  gonna die,” Heath shot back. He was standing on the other side of the bathroom door holding a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. He wrinkled his nose. “I told you to turn on the fan.”

“You better be fucking glad I even made it to the toilet,” Zane huffed. Heath opened the door just a bit, shoving his hand through the crack so that Zane could take the medicine. “I can’t believe you let me eat that much.”

“You’re a grown man, dickhead. You can control your own food intake,” Heath retorted. “I hope you learned a lesson. Next time, maybe we’ll work on keeping all of the food in your mouth or on the plate. Now I have to go vacuum the crumbs off the couch.”

“Wait! Can you…stay? Like on the other side? I want to talk.”

“You want me to talk to you while you’re shitting?” Heath clarified. “You’re disgusting.”

“Hey, maybe that’s where ‘shit-talking’ came from,” Zane mused. “Some guy insulted another guy while he was taking a shit.”

“I’ve heard of an armchair psychologist, but toilet linguist is a new one.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I prompted myself with this one lol: #31 “Stop being such a baby.”

“Jesus, Zane, you have a little cold, not typhus. Stop being such a baby.”

“It doesn’t  _feel_  like a little cold,” Zane whined. “I have the flu, at the very least.”

“Baby, you don’t even have a fever. You’ll be fine. Just get some rest.” Heath replaced Zane’s empty box of tissues with a new one, and reluctantly changed the garbage bag containing a day’s worth of snotty rags. He swept the empty bottles of Gatorade off of Zane’s nightstand and re-filled his water bottle.

Zane watched him with red, watery eyes, his nose dripping, his hair the greasiest Heath had ever seen it. Zane coughed weakly, like he was an orphan in bed with consumption, and Heath barely refrained from rolling his eyes. The guy was so fucking extra when he was sick.

Heath gave Zane another dose of Nyquil and turned off the light, patting Zane’s belly. “Try to sleep. I’ll wake you up a bit later to see if you want to eat.”

“Stay with me,” Zane said, clutching Heath’s hand pathetically. “You’ve hardly spent more than five minutes at a time with me in the last two days.”

“I’m just trying not to get sick. I’m sorry.” Heath pulled his hand away, and Zane’s sad expression tugged at his heartstrings. The stupid baby.

“Here,” Heath said, giving Zane his phone. “I’ll call you in a few minutes, okay?”

Zane perked up. “Facetime?”

“If that’s what you want.” Heath smiled and gave Zane’s thigh a squeeze through his pile of blankets.

Heath was at the door when Zane called him back. “Wait! When you Facetime…can you, uh, be wearing fewer clothes? Or no clothes. That works too.”

“And why should I do that?” Heath asked, raising an eyebrow,

“I think it would be kind of hot, to, you know…fool around a little, with you just in the other room.” Zane looked at Heath hopefully.

“You want to have Facetime sex, you mean.”

“Well…yeah.” Zane shrugged. “If you want.”

“I thought you had the flu. I’m not sure you should be straining yourself like that when you’re this sick,” Heath said innocently, trying not to laugh at the sudden change of expression on Zane’s face.

“Oh no, it’s just a little cold,” Zane replied quickly. “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know,” Heath said doubtfully. He loved riling Zane up. “Maybe you should just take a nap and-”

“Heath,” Zane groaned, cutting him off. “Just show me your ass.”

“Wow, I have to take care of you when you’re sick  _and_  show you my ass?”

“If you didn’t want to do the dirty work, you shouldn’t have married me,” Zane retorted. “Now, go get naked.”

Heath looked at his watch. “That Nyquil’s gonna kick in pretty soon. Hope you can go fast.”

Zane looked at Heath incredulously. “Have we met?”

Heath laughed. “Yeah, okay. Going now, baby.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Heath paints Zane's toenails. Also, thanks for the time you put into this.

“You’re so lucky I love you.” Heath wrinkled his nose in disgust and dropped Zane’s foot onto his lap.

“It’s not that bad,” Zane said, although he blushed a little. “I mean, at least it’s clean. And doesn’t smell.”

“Yes, that is a nice change,” Heath replied drily. “I still think you should go to the doctor. Maybe you have a fungus or something.”

“It’s just a genetic thing.” Zane wiggled his toes. “Now just fucking do it. I want to go out.”

“Can’t you go to the salon like last time? I’ve never done this before. It’s going to look like shit.” Heath looked at the bottle of polish in his hand like it was a beaker of acid. 

“Nothing can look worse than my toes do right now.”

Heath looked again at Zane’s yellow, bumpy toenails and grimaced. “Yeah, ok.”

Heath was thankful that Zane had at least thought to cut them beforehand so he didn’t have to. He opened the bottle of polish gingerly and tried to remember any time he had ever seen someone do this.

“Look, are you sure that painting them is going to make it better? I just don’t-”

Zane groaned. “Oh my God, Heath. Yes, I think that having them painted is much better than having yellow witch feet. I don’t want to wear socks all summer. It’s slip-on season, bitch.”

“Fine,” Heath huffed. He gripped the top of the brush and was about to make a tentative stroke before Zane yelped.

“What?!” Heath cried. 

“You need to put the base coat on first,” Zane instructed, pointing to a bottle of clear polish.

Heath rolled his eyes. “Jesus.”

Forty-five minutes later, Zane’s toes were dry and…definitely painted. Heath had tried to clean up his work with polish remover, but they still looked like a ten-year-old had done them.

“I’m still not sure electric blue was the best color choice,” Heath said. “It’s… pretty bold.”

“They’re great,” Zane replied, waving Heath off. He jumped up and slid on his sandals, sighing happily. “Perfect.”

Heath shook his head and went to the sink to wash his hands. When he’d gotten his phone and keys and headed to the front door to leave, Zane was looking at himself in the hall mirror.

“Hey, you think you can do my beard when we get back?” Zane asked. “It’s getting kind of scraggly.”

“I’m not your groomer, Zane.” Heath threw up his hands. “Sometimes I don’t know whether you’re my boyfriend or my dog.”

Zane grinned. “He protec, he attac…” He sidled up to Heath and pressed him against the door. He whispered in Heath’s ear. “…he gonna fuck you when we get back.”

Zane gave Heath a smoldering kiss. When they parted, Heath looked resigned.

“Fine, I’ll do your fucking beard.”

Zane laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Zane and Heath go apartment hunting and end up fucking in an empty unit.

Zane wanted to die.

Heath was yelling at the realtor on his cell phone. The bitch was over 45 minutes late for their showing, and they had been waiting outside the building in the blazing sun for just as long.

Zane was hot, hungry, tired, and fed up. This was going to be the sixth apartment of the day- of an entire month of apartment hunting- and at this point he didn’t care where they lived as long as he never, ever had to do this ever again.

Heath hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. “What a stupid, incompetent piece of shit. She forgot about our appointment, and now she’s all the way in Calabasas and can’t get here in time.”

“Let’s just go home,” Zane suggested. He wiped his forehead and grimaced. “I feel gross. I want a beer and air conditioning.”

“Are you kidding? I am not leaving until I see this fucking apartment. The bitch said that we could try the office and see if someone will let us in the unit without her.” Heath stomped towards the building and Zane mimed hanging himself.

A very mean office manager  _did_  let them in, slamming the door behind him on the way out- no tour, no explanation, no nothing. And now they were standing in the middle of a very empty, blindingly white apartment.

It didn’t take very long for them to peer into all of the rooms. The kitchen wasn’t that great but all of the other rooms were big and sunny, and there was a small balcony, just like they had now. Everything was in great condition, and they had plenty of spaces for filming.

“I actually like it,” Heath said when they reconvened in the living room. “What do you think?”

“It’s the best one we’ve seen today, for sure.” Zane leaned back against a wall and looked up at the ceiling, imagining a life in this place. 

“I know you hate this,” Heath said sympathetically. He put his hands on Zane’s shoulders and gave him a peck on the lips. “But we really need our own place.”

“I know.” Zane smiled down at Heath and rubbed his back. “It will be great. Just the two of us.”

It was unclear whether it was the white walls, or the air conditioning, or the quiet stillness, but Heath rested his head against Zane’s chest, and they stayed wrapped in each other for a long time, thinking, listening to the other breathe.

After awhile, Zane adjusted his position, and Heath felt muscles shift under his hands, could feel Zane’s heart beating in his chest.

“Do you want to head out?” Zane asked, running a hand through Heath’s hair. 

Zane’s face was illuminated by the sun through the window, and he looked youthful. Handsome. He looked like the guy who had spent the entire month traipsing all over Los Angeles so Heath found exactly the apartment he wanted. He was also the guy who was warm and alive beneath him, strong and smelling so good.

“No,” Heath answered softly. “Not yet.” 

Zane looked at him curiously, and Heath pressed their lips together without warning. Zane made a surprised noise, but he quickly got with the program, and soon the sounds of their lips and tongues meeting filled the empty apartment.

Heath slid a hand between them and cupped Zane’s dick through his shorts, letting Zane suck on his tongue as he stroked it to full hardness.

It was like an invisible hand came down from the sky and pushed on Heath’s head, because he dropped to his knees so fast that he even surprised himself. Zane’s eyes widened and they flicked to the door, and then back to Heath.

Heath didn’t care if the Pope walked in on them. He needed that dick,  _stat_.

He tugged down Zane’s shorts so he could pull out his cock, and Zane groaned as he got his hand on it, his head thunking back against the wall, his hands in Heath’s hair.

Heath took the whole tip in his mouth- he was too far gone for batting his eyelashes and little kitten licks. He got the head nice and red and wet before sucking down nearly the whole thing. 

“Fuck! Yeah, baby, just like that,” Zane breathed as Heath’s lips slid up and down the entire length, trying to get Zane as deep as he could. It wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

He whined around Zane’s cock and gripped his hips, trying to pull him in. Zane was incredibly dense about some things, but this was not one of them. He gripped Heath’s hair tighter and thrust into his mouth, slowly and shallowly at first. Heath made it clear he wasn’t having any of that by digging his nails into Zane’s thighs, and Zane started fucking his mouth in earnest.

It wasn’t often that Heath wanted rough head like this, the kind that made him gag, made his eyes water, made him sound hoarse the next day. But when he did, he wanted it  _rough_. Not only did it feel good, but it made Zane go crazy.

“Yeah, you like that baby? Like having my cock down your throat?” Zane growled, his thrusts so brutal that Heath couldn’t even hum his pleasure. But if Zane could see his cock dripping in his shorts, he’d definitely know how much he liked it.

“Fuck!” Zane was panting and tugging on Heath’s hair so hard he hoped he’d have some left after this was over. Heath could tell Zane was close, could feel the blood rushing through his cock making it even harder and bigger. One…two…three…

“Yes! Oh, fuck yes!” Zane called out, and Heath could feel his come shoot down his throat, hot and sticky. “Yeah, get it all, baby.” 

When Zane’s hips had stilled and the hand in his hair loosened, Heath pulled off Zane and sat back on his heels. Zane was wrecked- he could barely breathe, and he had his arm over his eyes like he could still see the stars shooting in front of them.

Heath grinned. Good.

They heard footsteps in the hallway, and spooked Zane enough for him to recover more quickly. He tucked his dick back in his shorts, and Heath tried to adjust himself so he wasn’t so obviously erect. 

They sprinted out of the apartment, giggling as they ran down the stairs and out to the car. Zane sped out of the parking lot, heading towards home. Heath knew he was looking forward to returning the favor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Prompt: Zane and Heath go shopping at a farmers market. Large cucumbers abound. Feedable bunches of grapes.

“What the fuck is this?” Zane asked, holding up a small white bulb that was stained with purple at the top. A couple with a small child turned to give him a dirty look as they walked by, and he shrugged at them.

“It’s a turnip, dumbass,” Heath replied, rolling his eyes. “And watch your language.”

“We’re at a farmers’ market, not church. People shouldn’t be so damn sensitive,” Zane said defensively.

Heath pulled his husband down the crowded Los Angeles street which was lined with stands big and small, selling everything from fresh vegetables to honey to organic vegan gluten-free shampoo. It definitely wasn’t Zane’s scene, and Heath figured the only reason that Zane wasn’t complaining more about being here was that it was such a nice day out. The sun was shining, it wasn’t too hot, and Zane had an excuse to wear his new Ray-Bans.

Which Heath  _definitely_  didn’t think he looked super hot in. No way.

“What are we looking for, anyway?” Zane asked as Heath stopped at yet another vegetable stand. “Wait- it’s this, isn’t it?”

Zane held up a thick, dark green cucumber that must have been about a foot long. He was grinning like an idiot.

“Nice, Zane,” Heath said. “Real mature.”

“What?” Zane asked innocently, but when Heath didn’t take the bait he dropped it back in the box and sighed.

“Do they sell food here?” Zane asked, rubbing his stomach. “I’m hungry.”

Heath looked at him in disbelief and waved an arm in front of the stand. “Zane…you’re literally standing in front of boxes upon boxes of food.”

“No, I mean like…cooked food. Like, hamburgers, or funnel cake or something.  Or a corn dog. Yeah…a corn dog would be awesome right now.”

“So something fried and dripping with grease, you mean?” Heath said drily.

“Well…yeah.” 

Heath shook his head. “This is the reason we’re here, Zane. So we can get fresh, healthy ingredients to make  _good_  food so you don’t drop dead from a heart attack at age 45.”

“But I don’t like this stuff,” Zane whined, gesturing towards the vegetables.

“How can you say that? You eat all the vegetables I make for you. You even asked for more asparagus the other night,” Heath reminded him. “Or were you just being nice?”

“I guess they’re good when you make them,” Zane mumbled.

“Well, who else is going to be making them for you?” Heath held up his hand and pointed to his wedding ring. “You’ve got yourself a personal chef for life, asshole. The least you can do is not complain when I try to keep you alive.”

Zane hung his head in shame and walked behind Heath like a scolded child. His punishment was that by the end of the next two hours, both of his arms were laden with canvas bags full of fruits, vegetables, cheese, meat, and assorted jams made from shit Zane had never heard of. There must have been fifty pounds on each arm. At least, it felt like it.

“You know, you have perfectly functioning hands too,” Zane complained. He shifted the bags in his hands the best he could. “You wanna hold some of these?”

“Not really,” Heath replied, gliding ahead towards a bread stand.

When they finally had made it back to the end of market where their car was parked, Zane stopped short at one of the last stalls.

Heath smelled it before he saw it.

Funnel cake.

Zane looked so pathetic when Heath glanced over at him that he caved right away. 

“Fine,” Heath sighed, and Zane followed him happily towards the vat of boiling oil and pounds of sugar.

“Let me try it,” Zane said as they walked to the car with their plate of fresh funnel cake five minutes later.

“Can’t you wait until we get to the car?”

“No, I’ll die before then,” Zane said, and he sounded so serious that Heath had to laugh.

Zane’s hands were full, so Heath pulled off a piece of the cake and popped it into Zane’s mouth. Zane groaned in satisfaction, chewing loudly like a cow and getting sugar all over his lips like an infant.

“Fuck, that’s good funnel cake. Probably the best I’ve ever had.” Zane tried to lick his lips to get the sugar off, but just ended up moving it around his mouth more.

Heath couldn’t believe he was using his thumb to wipe crumbs off the mouth of a thirty-two-year old man, but there he was. Doing just that.

“You are definitely not eating this in my car,” Heath declared. 

“Then feed me more,” Zane said, opening his mouth.

And he looked so silly, and so earnest, that you couldn’t even be mad at him. It was impossible. 

Heath gave him another piece, and Zane grinned. “I luh you,” Zane said with his mouth full, spraying powdered sugar over his t-shirt.

“Somehow, I love you too.”


End file.
